


Danatole: Petersburg “surprise”

by Sappho_is_my_role_model



Category: Natasha Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812 - Fandom
Genre: Anatole - Freeform, Cuddles, M/M, Only slight angst, The Great Comet, anatole is sad, angst with happy ending, dolokhov - Freeform, dolokhov is sad, i am sad, maybe a little more than slight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-11-01 08:28:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20812106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sappho_is_my_role_model/pseuds/Sappho_is_my_role_model
Summary: Anatole gets a surprise visitor and he falls in multiple ways.





	Danatole: Petersburg “surprise”

**Author's Note:**

> I’m a terrible writer so please be easy on me. This is based on a true story. I don’t think I edited this.

Anatole was in Petersburg with no one. He was on his estate. It was big and empty. The walls echoed when Anatole whispered, conveying the everlasting loneliness he has to endure for the rest of his life.

No matter how close people seemed they were always so far away. Laughter and cheers were impossible to reach. 

Anatole leaned his head against a window. The cold pressed against his forehead, telling how him freezing it was outside, but how he longed to be outside. Outside with people, dancing, singing, flirting. He missed it all.

He truly missed Moscow. It was the joy in his soul. The people like his sister, Pierre, and sweet sweet Natasha...

How that sweet name brought a bitter taste to his tongue. Sure he made mistakes, but was those mistakes so vile that he deserved to be exiled from paradise? Was he a soul worth banishing?

Anatole didn’t believe so. He didn’t believe it for one minute.

Moscow... he missed everything. The parties, the food, the drinks, Balaga,the balls, operas, and Dolokhov.... It seemed only Dolohkov had cared for him and Anatole had only cared for Dolokhov.

Over the past year Dolokhov had sent countless letters to Anatole. Checking up on him, telling him what was happening, etc. each letter was so descriptive and was beautiful.

If Anatole was honest with himself, he felt infatuated. Anatole couldn't describe it. He adored the way Dolohov would write two paragraphs about a dog, he was smitten with the way Dolohkov wrote like how he talked to him in real life, he cherished the wrinkles from his smile, he loved the way Dolokhov spoke. Direct and comforting. 

Anatole remembered Dolokhov and stared into space. Like he was looking at him in real life. He stared in awe.

He could still imagine Dolokhov. His Brown hair, glistening with new grey hairs. His broad shoulders, heavy from working. Muscles and lean. His utmost beautiful facial features. Symmetrical face, shining eyes, adorable dimples.

Oh how Anatole missed  _ his  _ dear Dolokhov. Wait what was anatole even thinking. Dolokhov is not his, never was, never will be.

Anatole sighed “I suppose I could retrieve the mail.”

It had been almost a month since Dolokhov had last sent a letter and Anatole was getting a tad impatient. Anatole checked every day for a letter, yet none appear on his doorstep.

Anatole just wanted Dolokhov. He just wanted his words, his voice, him. Just him.

As Anatole walked down his stairs he heard a knock on his door. “Odd I wasn’t expecting anyone.” Anatole mumbled.

He made it to the door and put his coat on. Anatole opened the door... no one was there.

“That is more odd...” he whispered. His head turned from side to side, making sure he wasn’t being pranked. He saw footprints in the snow but, nothing more. Down at his feet however, was a letter with a red wax seal.

His eyebrow quirked upwards. He shivered as he grabbed the letter. Once more he looked at his porch, making sure he wasn’t about to be killed. He opened carefully.

On the paper inside all it said was ‘surprise’ in handwriting that was all so familiar. Anatole looked so confused. He was certain that Andrey had realized he wanted to kill him and was about to shoot him then and there. Anatole felt like he was about to be a deadman. 

“Surprise!” Anatole wasn’t wrong. He might be a deadman.

Anatole let out a noise that was not so manly. The shock of whoever said that made him slip on his own feet and fall to the ground. The impact made a large thump. Anatole hit the back of his head on the door frame harder than he could ever imagine.

Anatole couldn’t recall the next 5 minutes, his head was in pain and he couldn’t feel his body. It was pitch black. It was like he was dreaming, but he was completely awake. But only in his mind. He couldn’t hear the outside world. Just his thoughts.

Soon he was brought back and he heard a faint noise.

“Oh lord I think I killed him.” 

Anatole didn’t open his eyes but he knew where he was at. The velvet fabric told him he was on his sofa, laying down. Anatole felt to hands on his shoulders. He slowly opened his eyes to see a blurry bearded man wearing a black coat looking worriedly at him.

Oh god a hired hit man was going to kill him?

“Huh.?” Anatole blinked and vision came back to him better. He knew that face from anywhere.. “D-Dolokhov?”

Anatole was shocked, happy, hurt, all at the same time. His eyes were starting to form tears but he couldn’t cry. Anatole let out a single tear, his breathing was a tad faster.

“Oh my god I thought I killed you.” 

“Dolokhov.” Anatole grazed his hand on his cheek. Feeling his slightly longer beard that was still kept and neat. Dolokhovs cheeks were warm. “Your warm.” 

“We’ve been in here for a while. But never mind that how is your head?” Dolohkov grabbed hold of Anatole's hand and put it down.

Anatole felt his head. It hurt, a splitting headache. “Bad.” Anatole simply said. Talking was too much, he just woke up. It was too much to speak.

“Okay where’s your room? I have no idea. This house is huge. You can take a nap there.” Dolokhov laughed, hiding the fact he was deeply worried for his friend who could die in his sleep due to head trauma.

“Mmmm, up the stairs, two doors to the right.” Anatole grumbled getting up on his feet.

“Here I got you, you hit your head really hard.”

“Huh?” Anatole was scooped from his feet. Bridal position. Did Dolokhov get stronger? Did he get bigger? Anatole couldn’t help but lean himself into Dolokhov’s warm chest, it was so soft. It was the right amount of hard working muscle and fat. It was soft to lay on, but strong to carry heavy things.

Anatole relaxed into Dolokhov, embarrassingly nuzzling into him. It had been so long since he had human touch. It was so warm and nice. No one in Petersburg would pay mind to Anatole Kuragin. He was no one, he didn’t have a good nor bad reputation, He was invisible.

Dolokhov made it up the stairs, with ease. He had to have gained muscle while Anatole had been gone. Anatole thought about what Dolokhov muscle would feel like if Dolokhov took off his coat. Are they big and tender? Would he let Anatole squeeze them?

Okay he must have hit his head hard. What kind of thought was that? Fyodor Dolohkov is your best friend, not some girl you love.

“We are almost there anatole, don’t sleep yet you still have your shoes on.”

“Mm-okay.”

Dolohkov turned and was stunned at how empty his room was. There was a bed, a dresser, and a sofa. But it was empty. There wasn't any papers on the dresser, there wasn’t bottles next to the bed, and there wasn’t a rug or beads in sight. His friend didn’t seem to have a thing that would indicate “party animal” Anatole.

Dolohkov tried to set Anatole down, but Anatole clung like a child with a toy. Eventually Anatole gave up, his head hurt too much.

“Anatole I’m going to take off your shoes okay” Dolokhov watched as Anatole nodded. Dolokhov removed his shoes and coat. Dolokhov tucked in Anatole. Anatole nuzzled himself into the blankets similar how he nuzzled into Dolokhov.

Dolohkov made an attempt to leave, to make a sup of tea, but Anatole matched on to his wrist.

“Please don’t leave.” He muttered out. Anatole's eyes were desperate. Wide and scared. Scared to be alone. 

“Anatole st-” Dolokhov paused, he sighed “okay, let me just take off my shoes.”

Dolokhov realized that Anatole had been lonely, it was conveyed in every letter he wrote. He talked about how he missed the touch of a human, the voice of a person. Dolohkov thought he was being dramatic. But Dolohkov being in petersburg himself and seeing Anatole like this made him realize. Maybe Anatole was lonely and deprived of touch. 

He removed his coat, his inner coat, and his boots. He motioned Anatole to scoot over. They had shared a bed many times in Moscow, sometimes it got so cold that the only way to get warmth was of another person's body close to yours.

Dolohkov didn’t hug or embrace Anatole however, he just laid in bed. Anatole however clinged onto Dolokhov.

Anatole missed touch too much. He needed this.

“I missed this.”

“Missed what?” Dolohkov asked.

“I miss Moscow, I miss the smell, I miss the people. But mostly you.” Anatole admitted.

“I’m flattered.”

“I wish you were with me all the time. That would make me the happiest.”

“Oh?” 

Anatole yawned then groaned. “My head hurts.”

“You took a big fall. Go to sleep.”

“You’ll still be here when I wake up?”

Anatole was still like a child. Dolokhov smiled. “Wouldn’t dream of leaving you my friend.”

“Your the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” That was the last thing he spoke to Dolokhov before drifting off that late day.

A couple hours later Anatole woke up. His headache magically disappeared, but he felt pain on the back of his head when he touched it. Anatole opened his eyes to see that he was snuggled up to someone. 

“Dolokhov?”

It was Dolohkov, but he seemed to have been asleep as well. One of his arms were wrapped around Anatole, the other on the back of his head like a pillow.

Anatoles face showed a hue of red. He felt like he was burning. He longed for human affection, it felt so nice. But at the same time he felt like he was bothering and flirting with Dolokhov all at the same time. Anatole was messing with his own head. 

“Anatole Stop squirming.” Dolohkov mumbled under his breath. Great. Anatole woke him up.

“Sorry.”

“No need.” He yawned “lets go to the bar, my treat.” Dolokhov smiles opening his eyes and looking straight at Anatole.

“I can afford it.”

“I know that, but still I can too.”

Anatole dressed in his olive green coat and white button up. He wanted to look nice. He spent a little more time than usual making sure his hair was perfect. He grazed the bump on the back of his head a few times, and that stung. But other than that he looked good. Maybe. He was worried Dolohkov would find something wrong.

“Anatole are you ready?” Dolokhov came in to his room

Great he took too long “yes, I’m coming!”

They made it to the bar with no problems. Anatole complained a little about his head. And Dolokhov apologized countless times for making him fall.

Once they got there they took their seats and drank like old times.

“So Dolokhov, if you don’t mind me asking...why did you decide to come visit me?” Anatole felt his hands shake, he was nervous. For what? He wasn’t sure.

“Oh. Well..” Dolokhov took a sip of his wine “I came to see you. Your letters made it sound like you were lonely.” He smiled

“Ah, you pity me!” Anatole laughed taking a sip of his wine.

“No not at all!” Dolokhov looked genuinely offended. “I missed you. You have been on my mind.” 

Anatole choked on his drink. That sounded like flirting. No way. Dolokhov is a good man, he is not to be one to like a man. Right?

“Yeah. I missed you too.” Anatole replies, trying to hide the fact he was dying.

“So what have you been up to for the past month?” Dolohkov leaned onto his hand looking straight into Anatoles eyes.

Anatole struck up red, Dolokhovs eyes were half lidded, his mouth held a smirk, and he was enchanting.

“Well not much, just reading and such.” Anatole laughed looking away.

“That’s impossible. The Anatole Kuragin? Not doing much?” 

“I know it is hard to hear. I’m just not important here. Only in Moscow.” Anatole smiled sadly.

“that’s impossible everyone looks at you!your bewitching and beautiful anyone here can see that.” Dolokhov winked at the end of his statement. He waited for Anatoles response. 

That was definitely flirting. Anatole smiled uneasy. What was he to say?

“You too.” Why did he say that? Ugh Anatole was so embarrassed, why was he rusty. He now knew Dolokhov was flirting at least he thought. Why couldn’t he flirt back?

After a few more beers and one glass of wine, the two men were utterly plastered. They soon were dancing with some woman on the bar. Anatole missed this, he hasn’t had any lady near him since he left Moscow.

The girl dancing on him had red hair, her freckles flew in the dim candle light. She wore a pink gown with black lace. She grazed close to a particular spot that made him breathe hard. 

“You-your very forward. I like that.” Anatole smirked.

“Why haven’t I see you around?” She inquired putting her arms around his neck.

“I’ve been in town for almost a year, glad someone’s finally noticing me.” 

“Glad someone’s here to be noticed.” She smirked. She then started kissing into his neck.

Anatole enjoyed it, but something felt awfully sour. It didn’t feel right. Where was Dolohkov? What was he doing?

Anatole couldn’t stop thinking of Dolokhov, he missed his friend. Soon Anatole thought of Dolokhov even deeper. What if he was kissing his neck right now? Would his lips be soft compared to his harsh beard? Would his hands be ever so kind and graze around?

Anatole tried to drown out his thoughts with this girl. But it felt so wrong. He started to feel sick to his stomach. It hurt.

He looked up to see Dolokhov on the other side of the bar. A girl with black hair was yelling at him. He looked distant, he wasn’t responding to the girl. 

“Wait hold on.” Anatole stopped the red headed girl.

“Aw but we haven’t gone to the fun part!” She graced his pants loop.

“Don’t touch me.” He whispered slapping her hand. “Do not touch things that aren’t yours with out permission.”

“You  _ tease _ .” She scowled stomping away. 

Anatole went to Dolohkov.

“What seems to be going on here?” Anatole inquired.

“This man! He will not finish what he started!” The black hair girls shirked.

“Let’s get out of here Anatole.” Dolohkov grabbed Anatole's hand. Not letting go.

They made it out and it was dark. All that could be seen was stars.

Dolohkov was still holding his hand.

“Dolokhov are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” He answered with spite. Dolokhov released Anatoles hand harshly. 

That was new. Dolokhov face was scrunched with anger. He looked like he was going to cry or kill someone.

“Dolokhov what happened? Why are you upset?” 

Dolokhov started to walk on the path to the estate. He was tired. His eyes wanted to sleep.

“Nothings wrong.”

“Excuse my language but  _ bullshit _ . Dolokhov you don’t act like this unless your upset! No one does.”

“Anatole leave it be.”

“Fredya. You were happy today. What changed so suddenly?”

“You.”

“What?”

Dolokhov but his lip hard. He thought he might bleed. 

“You changed. Your letters.”

“What are you talking about?” How was this Anatoles fault? He did nothing. Right?

“God Anatole!” Dolokhov stopped. It was just him and Anatole. “Your letters! You conveyed feelings of more than friends. Your writing has driven me mad!..”

Dolokhov took a breath in and retrieved someone from his pocket. Then he spoke reading it “My Dearest Dolohkov, how lovely that name sounds to my ears. How beautiful that name is to my eyes. Everytime I see or speak of your name it reminds me of how much I miss you. I can’t wait to see you once again my friend.”

Dolokhov sighed “I just thought you meant what I meant. Felt what I felt. Your not in love with me. And I respect that. But I felt like you reciprocated last night so I tried countless times today to be with you, but you go with another lady and I’m left here.” 

“Dolohkov...i-I’m sorry.” Anatole squeezes his hands.

“I will leave tomorrow. You won’t have to see me.” Dolokhov interrupted 

“No! You didn’t let me finish!!” Antole cried out.

“Huh?”

“Listen! I don’t know how to convey that I love you in person!! It’s difficult when your just…” Anatole flailed his hands motioning to Dolokhov “like that!! It’s difficult when your just perfect! I went with that girl because I don’t know how else to love you… oh god I never said that out loud before. I love you. That’s so pleasant. Now I’m being mad. Huh?”

Dolokhov was quiet. Anatole was nervous. The cold breeze hit both of them. Making them both shiver.

“We are messes.” Dolohkov slammed his palm on his head. He started to laugh hard. It scared Anatole a little. Then Anatole noticed he was starting to cry.

“Dolokhov don’t cry.” Anatole removed his hands from Dolohkovs face. He looked longingly into Dolohkovs sad eyes. 

“I deel like this is a dream and a nights mare.” Dolokhov whispered.

“So be it. It will be the best nightmare and the worst dream you have.” Anatole replies putting his hands in Fredyas.

Anatole sucked in air. Here it was.

A kiss.

Anatoles head was tilted, Dolokhov still. Dolohkov was in shock and soon he was warm. Dolokhov reaches for Anatoles cheek. Their lips slid perfectly. It was soft and warm compared to the rough and cold weather.

They pulled apart a minute later.

“Whoa.”

“ _ Whoa.”  _ Fredya teased.

“We should go home. It’s cold.” Anatole looked up at the moon, admiring the light radiating from its sun.

“Yeah. This time let’s sleep in the same bed all night with no falling before hand.”

“Deal.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
